


For want of the wolf

by Mirror_Face



Category: The Long Dark (Video Game)
Genre: Animal-Human Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Kind of prosy honestly, Mild Mentions of Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirror_Face/pseuds/Mirror_Face
Summary: Her teeth clattered together as her jaw trembled from the cold. She had started her fire successfully, and began to lay out her sleeping bag before she heard a noise. A mix between a whine and a low growl.It wasn’t the wind.(It was the start of a very odd friendship.)
Relationships: Wolf & Female Player Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	For want of the wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually for my sister, but she doesn't have an AO3 account so I can't properly gift it to her. Yes, this is how I break my danganronpa-only rule. For family, I guess.
> 
> Anyways, sister (name not here for anonymity purposes), I hope you enjoy this. Uh... be sure to comment something if you want, but you really don't have to. You better read it!

She’d been stumbling through the snowy trenches of the wilderness for what only seemed to be a few days to a week (although, counting days was beginning to get harder and harder as time went on). Her backpack continued to grow heavier with extra clothes, food, and fuel- a rifle tucked uncomfortably under her left arm and sleeping bag bouncing constantly on her knee.

The icy cold pricked irritably at her now-numb nose and, annoyed, she pulled her scarf further up, trying to cover it. Her scarf was too thin to really do anything, but at least she’d tried.

The wind was starting to pick up the pace, howling and whistling as it blew past her ears. Tree branches twisted as the wind slammed into them, creaking with every heavy motion. She winced as she heard the thumping of once-young icicles hitting deep snow. Snow crunched underneath her feet.

Once again, she hoped she wouldn’t die.

* * *

It was one of those rare moments in which she had decided to camp outside. A dangerous decision, but a necessary one. She was almost out of water, growing exhausted and surrounded by nothing but the cold emptiness of the Canadian wild. As such, she had decided that setting up a small campfire and sleeping for an hour or two in her sleeping bag was the best course of action to take.

Her teeth clattered together as her jaw trembled from the cold. She had started her fire successfully, and began to lay out her sleeping bag before she heard a noise. A mix between a whine and a low growl.

It wasn’t the wind.

Almost instantly, she reached for her backpack in a desperate sort of haze, trying to find her flare. She knew she had one…

Her finger grasped it, and it was dragged out from her bloated backpack. Hands shaking, she slid off the top, trying to strike it against the flare’s side. She dropped the cap.

The wolf growled once again, limping out of the shadows and closer to her fire’s light.

Limped? She narrowed her eyes at it, curious. As she watched, she slowly lowered herself down to the ground, attempting to find and grap her flare’s cap. It was hard considering that her gloves were bulky and heavy, meaning that she couldn’t exactly tell what she was touching by texture. And she couldn’t exactly look down, not when she was busy making sure that the wolf wouldn’t pounce on her (hurt or not, it was dangerous either way).

Needless to say, it was odd when the wolf simply laid down at the edge of her temporary camp, back right leg twisted and scratched, muzzle quivering in the snow. It was a pitiful sight.

For some unexplained reason, she let it stay.

(She had promised herself that she wouldn’t sleep that night, but she ended up nodding off against her will. When she woke up, the wolf was still there, watching her with weary eyes.

Against her better judgement, she gave it a slab of stale jerky.)

  
  


The wolf had followed her once she’d decided to leave the area and look for the lighthouse, an area that she had seen much earlier on a map. She had minded the idea of a dangerous animal tailing her, but it didn’t try anything so she didn’t either.

Once again, she had to camp outside in the cold. The wolf was closer to the fire than it was the first night, something that she noted as odd. He looked cute in the shadowy light. She reached forward and patted his head, and she noted his dirty yet soft fur.

Aside from heavy panting, he didn’t move.

She slid her hands to his back, matted and frozen at the tips. The wolf let out some sort of satisfied growl, before it turned into a low whimper.

Her hand flinched back, dried blood stuck inside her nails.

Sighing, she turned and reached for her backpack, dragging it forward through the snow. She zipped it open, and dug in, until finally her gloves were smothering her bandage wrap.

She had to take off her gloves to properly wrap the bandages around his injured mid-section. The wolf’s breathing hitched and he whimpered in pain, gnashing his teeth together as some sort of stress reliever. She shushed him and continued quietly.

It was weirdly peaceful.

* * *

She hugged the wolf’s side, rubbing her face against his worn bandages. He let out a light, satisfied growl- tail whacking her hard on the back.

Her face was freezing from the biting cold and she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore, but she didn’t move. She just tangled her fingers into his matted fur, listening to the rhythmic hum of the wolf’s heart beat.

Why would she want to move? Was what she couldn’t help but wonder as she sat on the top of the lighthouse, watching the warm colors of the sunset cloud over them. The world was too quiet, too relaxing for her to even think about it.

Quietly, she asked the wolf, “Do you want to leave?”

He simply panted, letting his tongue loll out between jagged, uneven teeth.

She smiled back.

(The air smelt of a coming storm. One that could last multiple days. She didn’t think about that though.

There was always tomorrow, after all.)


End file.
